Sunday, November 20, 2016

This weekend, I attended Restoring Oceans, Restoring Climates. I've been pretty anxious in regards to climate change recently and have decided the best idea is to, simply, learn. Then figure out what to do next.

The weekend included presentations by Randi Rotjan on maintaining coral and sea life. Her work on revived coral has certainly made the rounds.

Judith Schwartz, who concentrated on land rather than water, spoke in regards to keeping moisture in the soil in order to best avoid draught. Cows Save the Planetlooks like an amazing book.

Sarah Valencik and Sarah Zeiberg gave a wonderful rundown of Cashes Edge and coral local to New England. I learned about marine monuments because I am so very much a laymen in this world.

I was fascinated with Tom Goreau's work with the Global Coral Reef Alliance. His interest in re-growing coral and his successes in regenerating biodiversity with salt marshes, oyster reefs, and eroded beaches was genuinely moving.

Brian von Herzen spoke about his work regarding The Climate Foundation. This includes projects like Azolla farming. His hope is to some day not only mitigate climate change, but restore the planet to what it was pre-industrial revolution. I found myself both cynical but happy about the optimism.

And Alfredo Quarto talked about the Mangrove Action Project, carbon sinks, and the work being done to educate the communities where mangroves mitigate the effects of hurricanes. It was amazing.

Genuinely hopeful stuff. Not the dark, wasteland I expected at all. I'm used to seeing environmental campaigns that make me panic, not think. Climate change isn't some powerful, unpredictable death knell. It's a series of smaller problems that all sort of feed into unbalancing nature. I find that complex but much more calming.

The election results fill me with trepidation at best and a fear of multiple, catastrophic, national and international incidents at worst. There is a moment each day that I wake up where I am relieved and happy until I remember what has happened and where we live now. I am grieving.

Otherwise, in this time of helplessness, in the hope that our greatest fears will not be realized, I urge you to reach out. Affirm your friendship and love for the people in your life who are important. Take care of your mental health.

If you volunteer, keep up the momentum through November, December, 2017, 2018, 2019, and 2020. If you donate, keep your eye on what we can do next to help. If you read articles and watch the news, don't give into panic.

Organize. Push. Next time an important election happens (looking at you, mid-term elections), vote.

Stay passionate. Stay loving. Don't burn out, burn bright.

If you make art, keep making it. It won't help by itself, no, but it is a welcome thing in difficult times.

I love you. Even if you voted for the candidate I didn't support, I want you to live in the best possible world. I will fight for you, all of us. I hope you'll consider doing the same.

AUTHOR

Gillian Daniels writes, works, and haunts the streets and parks of Boston, MA. Since attending the 2011 Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Workshop, her poetry and short fiction have appeared in Strange Horizons, Apex Magazine, and Flash Fiction Online, among others. She currently reviews fiction for Fantastic Stories of the Imagination and plays for The New England Theatre Geek.